I'm Already Gone:

What a productive day I'm having at work, lemme tell ya! I can't even concentrate - I wanna be at the beach SO BAD right now.

There will be the eating of a meatball sandwich from Doughboys in Grover, and consumption of several fried green tomatoes from Mo's in Pismo, and a good possibility that some (I call them 'buttermints'* but I don't know their real name) candies will be slowly savored.

All by yours truly.

Don't forget the 'getting my drink on' part. It wouldn't be an all-girls night out without that!

24 hours and counting until road trip commences

(drums fingers) . . . and counting and counting and counting.

*those 'buttermint' candies are the ones The Quarterdeck gives you with your check and Hotlix in Pismo sells. They're AWESOME. Back when I was a kid, the restaurant at the end of Grand at the beach (not the one currently there) used to give out those buttermint things too. That original restaurant was a Fish 'n Chips kind of place - real casual and comfy and goooood, lemme tell you. There would even be sand on the floor most times!) Hell, I'm so old, I remember when The Quarterdeck was on Grand Avenue (near where Nan's Used Books USED to be, not where it is currently) and the building was the shape of a boat. NO LIE! The 5 Cities used to be very quaint. Back before they started doing dumb things like changing Grover CITY to Grover BEACH. Grover ain't even AT the beach fercrynoutloud. :eyeroll:

Ah. The good 'ol days.

Frogger:

OMG! How cute are these bags? A-damn-dorable, if you ask me! *sorry to whomever blogged about this recently - I read so many that I can't remember my source*

Two of them have been purchased (love you VISA - we'll talk again at billing time) - one could possibly be a gift for someone I may or may not know personally . . . to, you know, buy her love and celebrate her birthday . . . but more so buy her love, LOL.

On the giftee knitting front, there has been some emergency frogging. I started out 'unknitting', but that turned tedious about the second row, knowing I was staring down the barrel of 4 more rows. I ended up taking a deep breath and removed the needle for the necessary emergency surgery. The 'ugly' is over and I've even knit back all the frogged wavy stuff. *WHEW*. I can't explain more of my issues with this gift without giving huge clues of what it is, so . . . for now . . . alls I can say is that I refer to it as my PITA project (Pain In The Ass for those of you unschooled in interwebs-speak, and you know who you are Birthday Girl.)

Still married, in case y'all were wondering.

Still employed. It's weird to not have a 'title' at this job. There is someone who does the Payables and the Payroll (not me) and someone who does the Receivables (still not me) and someone who files and answers the phones and does grunt work (definately not me). I can do their jobs if ever needed (and several times I've done the Receivables). I'm over all that stuff. Not as in "I am SO over Brad Pitt" but as in "those ain't my jobs - I do stuff other than that at work". Pretty much I calculate and pay all taxes, fix the accounting to reflect accurate figures for financial statement purposes, I chew ass on the deadbeat clients, I respond to IRS, EDD, FTB, Worker's Comp, etc., etc., etc., crap, and trust me - with 120+ employees on the books at any given time and financial numbers in the millions, there is a metric fuck-load of claims, notices, legal suits and requests for financials. I do all the things that are way above the experience/knowledge of all my coworkers.

'Member that I used to work at an accounting firm before this gig? September 15, 2007 was the first tax return deadline I've not had to burn the midnight oil for, but the October 15th deadline (for individual tax returns - Fed & State) was bigger. That day, I came home at 5pm, cooked dinner, lalala, drank a beer, scritched the cats and did not give one thought to Section 179 and Unreimbursed Employee Expenses or hell, even the rankling Earned Income Tax Credit. Can I convey properly how much I am LOVING not working for 'The Firm' anymore?

LOVING.

IT.

Lov'n it lov'n it lov'n it!

At this job I can take my lunch any old time I want to. 11am? Sure! 2pm? No problem! If I want to leave early on a Thursday (to go to Crazy Aunt Purl's book signing)? Go right ahead. Wanna take a 1/2 day Friday to get to the Coast for Queen Of Curls' b-day. Get to gett'n.

LOVE THIS PLACE!

It's not the prettiest place to spend 8 hours every day, but the boss is aces, us office gals get along swimmingly and the guys . . . ? Well, the guys kind of get annoyed with all the ass chewing I have to constantly dole out but it only happens when they screw up their sales tickets/bank bags. Less screwing up equals less ass chewing, and I think they're finally catching on.

Did I mention that my company runs ten stores throughout the Central Valley? Yah, really. This company is Big. Big big biggity big . . . big. (I know that only makes sense to D&M fans - sorry.)

It's easy being Taskmaster by phone and computer though. December 15th is our company Christmas party and something tells me the guys are plotting a
Come To Jesus meeting, with me front & center. I can take it. That's why I get paid the big bucks. :sticks out tongue:

Caught Pushing Daisies tonight. It was definately different but I'll give it a look-see next week too. Wednesdays suck dead donkey balls (and how gross is THAT?) for T.V. viewing. Criminal Minds. Bleck. I'm so so sick of 'Female Victim-Vision' (and I'll save that rant for another day). CSI: New York has an 84 on the cheese factor scale (almost as cheesy barf-o-fucking-rama as those Law & Order spin-offs Criminal Intent & SVU). A pox on all those shows.

Outside of all that crap, I have to keep track of what I need to do tomorrow night to facilitate a smooth trip to The (other) Happiest Place On Earth.

Pack:

1) Knitting. And some clothes. Mostly knitting though.

2) The present(s).

3) Not a cat. Y'all have not idea how many times one of our fur-faces jumps into the 'travelling bag' and/or the 'going to the Vet' carrier with such a look of excitement and anticipation. "HOOWEE! We're going on an adventure!" yet every time they DO go somewhere, it's to the vet and they are MAD! Suckas, lol.

4) Some clothes. Naked knitting is not on the skedoolie.

5) Cash. What happens in Pismo stays in Pismo, for the right price. :wink:

Incidents and Accidents:

Remember back to my post about my roadtrip to attend Laurie Perry's book signing?

I talked about how freeway overpasses in the L.A. area remind me of earthquakes and make me nervous?

There was even a picture . . .



Same place, roughly 24 hours later.




If you haven't seen/read the story in the news, here's an article about it.

Being in a vehicle scares the holy crap outta me on a good day.

When I was 19ish, I learned to drive by hiring the Sears driving school to teach me. I lived in Sherman Oaks and worked at Hollywood & Franklin, so my 'class' would either be the morning commute to work or the evening commute home. It was a great way to learn driving! It was hair-raising some days, believe you me, but a priceless experience overall.

For years I would drive the highways and byways of California (and sometimes Northern Nevada) with nary a care. I didn't just throw caution to the wind back then, I hurled it as hard as possible. I've driven through the center of California enveloped in a thick blanket of fog (and being a *Coast* gal, I thought I knew from fog! Tule River/Central California fog is unfuckingbelievable. You have to open your car door to see the line in the road, and I kid you not), traversed over I-80 between Sacramento and Reno during many a snowy day & night - if there were difficult driving conditions to be had, I drove them. One time, on the way to work in Reno, the road was icy (it was there I learned the term "Black Ice") and I took a curve too fast and completely spun around in the middle of the street. Luckily it was a little side road and noone else was on it. Made my heart stop for a second, but hey, a girl's gotta get to work and earn the Kibble so I shook it off and motored on.

From about 1987 until about 2002, I'd never had a car accident - not caused one and not been the victim of one either. Let me take an honesty break though. One time I rear-ended my boyfriend (at the time, roughly 1988) because I was following him while we were driving through Beverly Hills and I was looky-looing the mansions and didn't realize he'd stopped at the stop sign. It was a tap of nose (mine) to tail (his) and it still makes me laugh. Gawd I was a young dumb girl back then! Oh, and accidents don't count when you hit your own boyfriend going all of 4 miles an hour while ogling the rich! That's a Universe Law, I'm sure!

Soo . . . I'd gotten through a long history of accident-free driving until about 2002.

First accident - my fault: I had just pulled out of my work parking lot and was going through The Village (of Arroyo Grande for those not up on Central Coast geography). I glanced away and BLAM! Smacked right into the back of a boat prop. A boat being towed in front of me. D'OH. The guy was really nice about it all. The boat's propeller screwed up the front of my little compact bad though. My hood accordioned up and the radiator was smooshed back against the engine. Thankfully, there was zippy damage to his motor. Now that we own a boat I understand that his motor would've cost a a tidy sum to repair/replace.

Second accident - not my fault: Again with the 'just leaving work' thing. This time I'd made it down Traffic Way, just past the post office, and a lady in a HUGE ASS VEHICLE (seriously, it should have been painted camouflage and had the words U.S. ARMY stenciled on the sides of that tank!) pulled outta Mullahey Ford smack into the front of my little compact. BLAM! Scared the fuck out of me. She was very nice, and the Mullahey Ford guys all came to help and everything was eventually alright with the world. It didn't hurt that her insurance company dropped a wad of cash in my lap big enough to finance a week-long trip to D.C. (another story for another day) and a financial cushion to give this single chick (at the time) enough Kibble fund to keep the cats fat and sassy for quite a while. Oh, and my car was considered 'totalled' and they also provided me with enough of the green stuff to purchase a kick-ass Mazda MX-3. WITH A SUNROOF! SCORE! Man I loved that car.

Third accident - fault to be determined: We had lived in our current town for ummmm . . . one week. That's it. I pulled out of a dirt driveway about 7pm in April 2004 (twilight, in case you were wondering), went left about 100 feet and then went left again into another driveway. I signalled both turns. On my second left, as I was making the turn, I heard a screetch on my left while almost simultaneously getting smashed into at the driver's side door, and then I saw a man go flying in the air across my windshield and over the hood. It was all *snaps fingers* THAT FAST. It was a hard fucking hit. On reflection, I realize now it was a wreck and not an accident. I got the SUV off the road for safety and went to the man lying at the front of my in-laws driveway. I checked on him. He wasn't moving, but he was alive. I went running down the driveway to my in-laws' house. My husband had gone with his dad to 'cruise' for a while and I'd been at one of their mobile homes spending time with our animals (we were staying there temporarily while house shopping). I got to their back door and started screaming "MIL call 911 call 911 there's been an accident at the driveway" and then I went running back down the road to the man.

***If you are squeamish, then don't read the next three paragraphs.***

These are my memories of all that happened next, so probably a part is 'hysteria' and a part is 'coping mechanism' and a part is 'sheer fucking disbelief' that any of this is really happening in the first place.

I got back to him and he was coming to. He was moaning and sweating SO profusely but he wasn't really conscious yet. All I could do was kneel down at his side and stroke his head and arm while telling him that people were on their way and he was 'going to be okay'. I said it over and over and over, and then over again.

Then I really looked at him. He was not 'okay'. His top lip was ripped in half and hanging down from gravity. He was lying on his left side but his left foot was over his right leg and faced the wrong direction. Nothing about that looked 'okay'. When that realization hit me, I also realized that NOONE WAS COMING. No sirens, no ambulances, no police. Nothing. Oh wait, there was a fucking gawker stopped on the road, directly across from us, using his cell phone to either text or take pictures - I dunno, but not fucking doing anything productive. One lady walked up, handed me a blanket and said something along the lines of "Please use this if you need it - it was in my car. I'm sorry. Bless you for doing what you're doing. I can't help you do that." Even though she couldn't look at us, she touched my heart and she'll never know since I don't know who she is. I remember seeing car headlights lined up on each side of the road, going slowly past. Being cautious or being gawkers . . . ? Dunno.

***Commence to reading unsqueamish parts now***

When it really dawned on my that NOONE WAS COMING, I took off again down the driveway, back to the in-laws house and screamed at my MIL "call 911 where is anyone noone is coming we need an ambulance RIGHT NOW". She yelled back that she was on the phone "with 911 RIGHT NOW", so I booked it back to the road and the guy. He was really coming to at that point, rocking back and forth and making feeble attempts to get up. In his condition, I knew I had to restrain his mobility. Personally, and I have zero medical knowledge, I think the pain was causing him to regain consciousness.

Shortly after, a fire truck showed up and went to the man. He was lucid enough at that point to answer questions about his name and address. I'd never thought to engage him in conversation - I was too scared for him. My plan was to keep him safe by sheer willpower. That's the only 'coping mechanism' I know.

Shortly after that, my husband and his dad pulled up, having just heard about it from my MIL.

The man got treated at the scene and transported to the local hospital.

I didn't even know his name at that point.

The CHP asked me basic questions - name, address, CDL #, workplace, what happened, phone number blahblahblah. That's when the uncontrollable shaking kicked in. I always do that once the levelheaded part of me can take a backseat. They said I could pick up their preliminary report the next day.

The next morning, after a stop at the CHP office, we tried to get info from the hospital but no dice. There was a law passed about patient confidentiality and since we weren't family, nope. Not gonna tell us. I spent that day in a fog. The next day, The Mike & I were at the mobile home with our pets and I noticed two/three CHP cars on the main road and pointed it out to him. He called his dad (at the next driveway over) and they walked down to see what was what. After a few minutes of contained curiosity, I moseyed out the the deck and took a listen to what was being discussed amongst them all.

Alls I heard was "peasandcarrotspeasandcarrots he died last night peasandcarrots"

My heart dropped. The Mike and his dad walked back up to me and I know my husband knew that I'd heard.

I can't even tell you. All of us were crestfallen to hear those words uttered.

Nothing can prepare you for something like that. Nothing. Noth. Ing. Nutt'n Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.

This has been the lowest of low proportions.

That man died.

Nothing will change that.

I think of him daily. Every time I enjoy a laugh or a flower or my cat's antics or my husband's 'funny' or a motorcycle passing by or a quiet reflective moment. He doesn't have those times and his family doesn't have those times with him (whether they did then or not - I dunno - but I hope they did.)

Since his death the following has happened:

I was found at fault for making a legal left-hand turn. The CHP officer's reasoning is that he was 'on that road longer' than I was. He made a legal pass on the left at the same time I made a legal left turn. He did not have a working headlight (remember - twilight) and he was not wearing a Department of Transportation sanctioned helmet (in fact, his helmet flew from his head at the accident and was found several feet away, unstrapped). The official accident report states that he was 'under the influence' but doesn't explain of WHAT and HOW MUCH.

Right after the accident and for the last few years, we've been told anecdotal stories about his drug use and what he was doing earlier the day of the accident. Did I tell you we live in a teensy tiny postage-stamp-sized of a town? We do.

It's been three-plus years since that happened and in ohh-about March/April of 2007 We got served civil papers.

Yes, there is a two-year statute, but they stated they've spent that time 'trying to find' us. We lived at the scene of the accident for two more months and then lived right down the road for ohhhh, I dunno . . . THREE MORE YEARS! I'd worked at the same job on the accident report until May of 2007 - and not in some hidden office. Right the fuck inside the front door of the place. His daughter and her family live 6 doors down. Really reallys.

When we were served . . . ? Almost 3 years to the day.

Think of a dollar amount that would shake your Earth to win OR be sued by. No really. Name a number. What would rock your Lotto winn'n ass or make you puke your guts out to get sued for? One Million? That's a serious chunk of Kibble. Two Million? Try $4.6. As in Million.

That's my story and that's why I can no longer drive down the road with nary a care.

Shit happens beyond your control and it's awful sometimes. Just like entering a tunnel to merge with the I-5, at 55 mph with no worries.

BLAM.

That fucking quick.

Bwaaaahaaaha!

If this is wrong, then I don't wanna be right!

BOOYA!

Squueeee! It really happened and it wasn't a dream, LOL!

Laurie's flickr set of the L.A. book signing. I'm picture 17 & 18 (and for the life of me can NOT figure out how to save the picture or link it - it's coming up blank. Grrr.) Pink pants and purple sweater.

And if you're wondering? Hell no I didn't knit that sweater! I did knit & felt that purse though.

License and Registration Please:

Man, if there were Knitting Police, I surely would have been issued a ticket today!

I'm apparently guilty of KUI-S. Knitting Under the Influence of *Stupid*.

Gift knitting item was truck'n right along, but I did, at the onset of one particular part, have a teensy tiny little voice say something along the lines of "Hmm, why would there be decreases on this needle?" That's when I told teensy tiny little voice to "shut up" because it was getting hard to concentrate.

Yeah. Getting hard to concentrate on knitting STUPID, as it turns out.

I spent the time waiting for my lunch order in 'unknit' mode. Tinking, as it were.

When this thing is finally done, Sheila better wear it every day for a month! I'ma want proof too.

Slip As If To . . . :

Knit?

Purl?

There is a subtle difference, and I had to learn that the hard way today.

The thing I'm currently knitting is a gift though, so pictures cannot be shown until after next weekend (well, maybe next Friday - we'll see)

I'll talk in Internet Knitting Code (IKC) and explain that I'm knitting this with LL's Color #27.

The recipient is a knitter, but she's not interwebs savvy so the term "LL" means nothing to her. :smirk:

HI SHEILA!

Next Friday I'll be heading west to hang with 20 (or more?) of Sheila's closest friends to celebrate her birthday with her. Alls I know at the moment is the festivities include a rented house at the beach (Pismo or Avila), Jello shots, and knitting.

Well, for me it includes knitting. Everything I do includes knitting. When I take the deposit to the bank for work, knitting is with me. Grocery shopping with The Mike? I knit and point out things for him to put in the cart. There is knitting while we wait for our food to be served when we eat out (well, not the NICE restaurants, but the run-of-the-mill places). I'm a knitt'n fool.

Dolphins lost again. 0-6. It's a lock for 0-7 next week since we play against New England.

There is a slight consolation to know they had this bad of a start two years before they came back to become 'the winningest team in NFL history'. Hope springs eternal.

Oh, I almost forgot!

The Mike (bless his pointy little head - he'd been operating on about 7 hours of sleep in two days, having chauffered me to L.A. and back, worked a full day Friday, and then had to get up at 3:45 am on Saturday for a fishing tournament) came in THIRD for that tournament!

It was the first time fishing with this teammate, and only his second ever 'tournament' event at all.

Third place won him back his entry fees plus another $110 or so on top of that. He also won some fishing 'stuff' and received a plaque out of it. He's stoked as fuck! He says they lost by .001 ounces. That's like the weight of a drop of water and given that the second place winners weighed after him, it was probably his own drop of water left on the scale that bumped him.

Suuuuuurrrree.

(Not from Saturday's tourney)

It was cute to see him on the proverbial cloud nine. He crashed HARD though and has slept most of today away. Probably good he slept through his team's loss against San Diego.

Tomorrow it's back to counting the profits of the tire business and wishing Friday would get here faster. There's a Jello shot with my name on it!

Other CAP Posters:

Here are some other reports of Laurie Perry's Book signing:

Ellen Bloom's 'L.A. Is My Beat' (and I forgot to mention she had THE cutest shoes that night. Laurie's were glamtacular, but Ellen's felted clogs were awesome).

CatherineKnits' 'So That Happened'

Teresa's 'liquidgirl knitting'

Rainy's 'Will Pillage For Yarn' (weird, her post says out loud alot of what I felt like too, sans the 'nose in book' part)

littledevilworks' 'The Devil Made Me Do It' (OMG! That's the Magic Loop chick I was sitting next to! How funny)

Jerry's 'Twisted Knitster'

VT's 'pantagruel'

Jillie of the Valley

If any of y'all have others, please feel free to email me at ajdury(at)yahoo(dot)com.

I still haven't figured out the *comments* shit here at blogger.

A Proper Post:

Mm'kay. I've definately caught up on sleep now, and I've just finished downloading/uploading the pictures from Thursday, so here ya go!

The Mike and I got on the road around 1 pm. We stopped in Terra Bella at Garden Harvest Farms so I could pick up some locally made stuff to give to Crazy Aunt Purl for her upcoming travels.

Once back on the road, we saw alot of this:



and this:



The Central Valley is not known for pretty scenery.

In fact, there are some downright Butt-Ass ugly spots too:





Eventually, we made it through Bakersfield:



and finally hit the grapevine:



It was between those last two pictures that I learned of The Mike's complete and unadulterated love of The Gap Band. Who knew??

Once up and over the grapevine, we finally saw the only pretty scenery to be had on the entire trip - Pyramid Lake:



Well, personally, *I* had pretty scenery the entire trip, but that's just my opinion!:



Eventually, we made it through Valencia, Newhall, Saugus, San Fernando, Chatsworth, North Hollywood, Burbank, Studio City and finally into Hollywood:



While we were still on the 5, we came to an overpass, and it got me thinking about earthquakes. I haven't lived in L.A. for a long time, and it was an earthquake (along with the Rodney King riots) that got me the hell outta there. I remember seeing pictures of the aftermath of the Northridge quake years later, and the collapsed/broken overpasses always gave me the biggest heebee-jeebees. You're just tool'n down the road, getting to or from something, and WHAM! There's no road in front of you, or behind you, or a car up ahead just falls off the earth. Fucking A scary. All those memories and fears came back when I saw this:



The Mike has never lived in a city bigger than San Luis Obispo, and he's had zippy experience with earthquakes, so I made sure to share my fear by reminding him we were now entering earthquake country. He didn't seem to care though, so that didn't help!

Anywho - we made it into the craziest of crazy towns, Hollywood, and traversed the roads to finally get to The Grove. Now, I didn't know where Barnes & Noble was in relation to The Grove and Farmer's Market, so we parked on the fifth floor of the parking structure and tried to get our bearings:



Now if anyone from L.A. is reading this, the next part is probably going to cause you to shake your head and laugh at us 'tourists'. Remember though, I actually used to live in the San Fernando Valley, work at 1800 N. Highland and I've even been to Farmer's Market way back in the day!!! So - we get out of the parking structure by taking the Northwest corner stairs and we head East once we get ground level. Alls I knew was I was 'close' to the venue. We walked back up to Beverly and turned left. I was getting the feeling that we should have walked the other direction (away from Beverly) but I kept on trudging. We walked ALL THE FUCKING WAY AROUND the CBS studio lot. All the way down Fairfax. Eventually we noticed some kind of outdoor mall-sy thing, but didn't spy any Barnes & Noble. I did see a tower with "Farmer's Market" written on it at this point. Whatever that thing was though? It brought no memory of the Farmer's Market I'd visited in the past. Man that place sure has changed! We knew we were at "The Grove" but still were kinda lost, so I asked at some tour bus kiosk where the Barnes & Noble was. The guy didn't know at first, but eventually we figured out that we were REALLY close. It was just down the street, around a corner and a few stores down. Found it. YAY!!!!

Now we had to figure out where the car was in relation to where we were, but first we had to get some damn linner. I hadn't eaten all day and The Mike eats every two hours (he does, no lie!). I wanted sushi from a vendor in Farmer's Market, but The Mike was turning into The Ass and started getting snippy and annoying. Partly he needed food, and partly he just hates 'the unknown' and gets really difficult to deal with. I, being the sweet and understanding Wife Of The Year, got exasperated and said "Fine. Let's eat where YOU want to eat because this is, after all, ALL ABOUT YOU and not *my day* in any way, it being the day before my birthday and the only thing I really really really wanted as a present! Yes. Let's go do what YOU want to do RIGHT NOW!".

So we did. We had linner at an Italian restaurant on the outskirts:



The Mike convincing me that he's happy eating here:



One of the upsides of linner is the availability of seating. There wasn't another soul desiring italian food at The Grove at roughly 4:45 on a Thursday. Nice! And they validated. Double nice! (Does the phrase 'do you validate' ever get said outside of L.A.? That's the only place I've ever uttered those words.)

After the meal, we got back (the easy way!) to the parking lot and our car so I could grab my knitting, Crazy Aunt Purl's book and her gift. I didn't know if there was going to be a gaggle of West Hollywood Stitch 'n Bitchers meeting beforehand above Farmer's Market, so I went back through there one more time. Nope. Not one knitting folk up on the second level, so it was back to Barnes & Noble to get settled.

Originally, when I found it around 4:30pm, there was noone seated. Why would there be? Itwas still 3 hours until the event! When I got back there around 6pm a few people (maybe 6 or so?) were sitting & knitting. I laid claim to a seat while The Mike went looking for Bass fishing stuff to read and kill time with. People started arriving in fits & spurts, and it was apparant that most everybody knew most everybody, 'scept for this lone gal. I overheard the WeHo's talking about their game plan of taking up seats by putting stuff on them, thus insuring 'their' spots.

Now, I don't know a one of these people. Crazy Aunt Purl writes about how nice and inviting they all are. It was sweet to see SO many people there for Laurie - to show support and solidarity on her very first book event. I eventually saw her close friend Faith (who Laurie wrote and told me to talk to in case I was ass-out of a seat). Alot of people kept asking Faith if Laurie was 'doing okay'. Faith assured all the support team members she doing surprisingly well. It kinda (okay, alot) felt like a small wedding where the Maid of Honor pops out before the bride appears, and everyone's asking how 'the bride' is doing. Sweet like that.







There was so much talky-talky of all things knitterly buzzing about the room while we waited. A lady sat next to me and I started watching what she was knitting. Now remember, I don't have anything even slightly resembling an SnB or even a real LYS in my hometown. I've travelled to the Fresno knitting group (Sheeper Than Therapy) a few times, but it's two non-knitting hours round trip. I've made a knitting friend from Visalia recently (hi Jollyewe!) but we haven't even knitted together yet! Being in a group of knitters is very much a novel concept for me. The gal that sat next to me was using a SUPER long circular and knitting a sock. I asked her about what she was doing (and I have a hard time talking to strangers, so that goes to show how interested I was!) and I think the method she was using was 'Magic Loop'. I'd just never seen it in action! The way I'd always read about it, it seemed difficult, but watching this chick? I could do that! I'm gonna try that next time I have empty needles, fer sher.

All of a sudden, there was clapping! Laurie Perry made her way down the aisle (like a bride, lol) and took to the podium. As part of her introduction, we were all asked to NOT take pictures until her reading was done. I switched to video at that point, and it wasn't until the drive home that I realized I NEVER GOT ONE STILL PICTURE OF HER! Fuckity fuck fuck FUCK. I'll learn though - this was the first ever 'thang' I've attended of this nature. Sorry.

Laurie was Hi-damn-larious! Her Texas twang was thick most of the time, but every so often it'd get faint and hardly noticeable. She read the first chapter of her book and then had a Q&A session. She'd prefaced that part by saying she'd try it out on this first signing, and depending on how it went she may (or may not) continue the practice.

There were questions like:

"Does your job know you've written a book/have a blog" to which she said emphatically that "NO" her job doesn't know about the book! To paraphrase, she said "it has the word DRUNK in it! I have a different demeanor at my work." She was surprised that no knitting coworkers had run across her blog and her gameplan for that possibility would be to 'deny deny deny' being Crazy Aunt Purl.

She was just so open and honest down-to-earth during the Q&A portion. She didn't seem to want to be considered an 'advice giver' per se and said the reason she wrote the book was (again with the paraphrasing) in her self-help-aisle search for how to deal with divorce, there was nothing really describing how SHE was feeling. Feeling like wanting to stab people with forks, basically.

One thing she said, which really matched how I view life, was when asked if she had any advice for someone in their 30's without 'a man' and without 'a baby' to feel okay with their status she explained, that for her, she had to realize that happiness wasn't 'those things' but something you strive to feel every day regardless of those things. For every person lamenting the lack of a husband or kid is the mother/wife lamenting the responsibilities of marriage and motherhood and not having time for their own needs. EXACTLY!

One of the questions posed to her was if she really understood/knew now, with the popularity of the book and the blog, that she IS worthy of happiness and good things. She said she did know that now, and then asked if there was an "April" here somewhere. That'd be me. GAH! I was so embarrassed. She told the crowd that I travelled three hours to come to the event. Minutes before that though, a lady from NEW DAMN JERSEY posed a question about where to go for drinks in the area - the room laughed loudly at that one, and Laurie directed the response to be given by an apparent 'known to drink knitter' from her SnB group instead.

There was a TON of laughing and a good time was definately had by all.

When the talking portion was over, the book signing part started. I almost didn't get in line, but I decided it would be goddamn dumb to go all this way and succumb to my shyness by not meeting her face-to-face. Upon my turn, she gave me a hug and asked me if the trip was worth it. Oh hell yeah it was! She signed my book, took my little gift bag, (and here walks up The Mike in the middle and I'm thinking GET OUT OF HERE!) and she said hello to him. She even asked Faith to take our picture together and said she'd blog it. That's the only picture I'll have of proof, if I ever get to see it. I'll have the memory though. She said she flying out at midnight that night to get to her next stop on the tour.

I'm sure Drew
(The Crochet Dude) took good care of her on that leg of the journey.

Unfortunately, the fun was over for me as I had to get my ass on the road and home! We got back to the car and I donned my 'travelling' shoes for the long ride home:



Here's a not so great picture showing a really great thing: Laurie's friend Faith, watching over the book signing from the sidelines. She had the biggest grin on her face the entire event! She was obviously proud of her friend.



It wouldn't be an L.A. trip without some traffic. Although the drive down was pretty clear, we hit a snarl about 9:30 that night, just before Valencia. Bumper-to-fucking-bumper. A perfect reminder of why I'm so glad I don't live there anymore.

And finally - almost home:



If I figure out how to post video - that'll be next. Laurie's reading and The Mike's singing.

Link to the entire flickr album set

Ass? Dragging. Eyelids? Heavy!:

I am very tired but it was SO SO worth it!

Got home just after midnight (and 15 minutes into my 39th B-day, bytheway!), and sought sleep just about 1 am.

Usually one am bedtimes don't phase me, but I think the long drive home is what did me in.

I have 2 hours until I have to go to work (took 1/2 day yesterday and the morning off today) so it's time to inhale coffee, clean up and get into 'earn a living' mode.

A proper post will follow soon and it will include the following:

Lots of pictures of the drive down.

Recap of L.A. traffic both coming and going.

Lots of pictures of The Grove/Farmer's Market.

Recap of our linner (late lunch/early dinner is always called 'linner' here).

Recap of Crazy Aunt Purl's event, in which she is A-damn-DORABLE, funny as FUCK, calls me out in the middle of her Q&A, and ends still being A-damn-DORABLE.

Talk of the WeHo's, CAP's bestest friend Faith, the too-small venue, gift baskets, a chick from New Jersey, The Mike getting usurped from his very-back-of-the-room-out-of-the-way-trying-to-be-invisible spot, and I finally saw someone knitting socks in what I *think* is called the 'magic loop' method.

Hopefully there will be some video in there of Laurie reading from her book, and The Mike singing for me. Those depend on me mastering the ability to post video. I have a big brain though, so I'ma try my level best.

None of this will probably happen until either late this evening or Saturday.

Work (as mentioned) this afternoon, then dinner with the Bass Club group at
The Springville Inn so it all depends on how much wine I consume before the night is through!

MAN! That was so fun last night!

***ETA*** I just found Ellen Bloom's pictures from last night, so now I don't have to leave you empty handed!

Thanks Ellen! (If you're looking at the fronts of the people sitting, I'm on the right block of seats, second row, 1st seat from inside aisle - pink pants & sunglasses on head. The Mike is in several - he's waaay at the back, on the left against the windows to the left, in a bright blue shirt - told you he was trying to be unobtrusive!)

Good Googilly Moogilly:

I haven't said anything yet about what I do for a living and where I do it. I'ma start with the *what* part tonight:

For a 'living', I am a bookkeeper. There are many layers of expertise in the bookkeeping field:

Some people think they can be a 'bookkeeper' because they've written a check in their lifetime.

Some people think they're a bookkeeper because they take the deposit to the bank.

Not so much.

The bulk of my work experience has been at accounting firms. I started out in 19*cough*87 as a wet-behind-the-ears, fresh-outta-high-school secretary for a small firm in Hollywood, CA. No college for me. No one told me how to GO to college and my life experiences were so limited back then I didn't know how (or that I could know how) to do it on my own.

My time at that first real job was invaluable. I learned 'tax season'. I learned how to enter 'write up' to create financial statements. I learned the term GAAP (Generally Accepted Accounting Principals). I learned the difference between Compilation and Review. I learned about estimates and refunds and itemized deductions (kinda, but it was a start). I filed my FINGERS off, photocopied my ASS off, and made enough coffee for clients to float a small yacht. It was at that office that I saw a real person with a real tattoo of numbers on their arm. Eye-fucking-opening.

That job was great in so many ways. Eventually, it was also time to move on though. There was no 'moving up' - I was waay too green to become the firm's in-house bookkeeper (so green I didn't even know what that job was) but bored with the work I was doing.

Went to another accounting firm. One of my clients was Gallagher. No lie. I never met him myself, but my boss told me Gallagher had (at the time - dunno now) a huge couch in his front yard. Think The Incredible Shrinking Woman scenery. I had a client that was the cinematographer for an Olivia Newton John movie (and NO! Not Xanadu! I'm not that frigg'n old! It was a holiday-themed movie.) I had another client that was just the son of a relatively rich family in the San Fernando Valley. He *dabbled* in business. :eyeroll: I would get all these people's bills in the mail and pay them out of their respective checking accounts. Must be nice.

Eventually I moved to the private sector and did bookkeeping for all kinds of businesses.

One was a company that made miniature remote-controlled cars, motorcycles, planes & helicopters for the movie industry. The office was at the Van Nuys airport and that's where I learned the whole Alpha Bravo Charlie Delta Echo Foxtrot alphabet. It still comes in handy for crossword puzzles, lol!

One was a company in the guts of Los Angeles that made some kind of generator-like thing that I STILL don't even know exactly. I was so so very green still! I paid the bills, and made the deposits, but I really didn't understand the bigger 'accounting' picture. I'm sure I wasn't hired because I was all of about 23 and young and blonde and did I mention green as hell? That's where I was working when the Rodney King riots happened. Fucking scary as fuck - lemme tell you. I left work that day . . . lah dee dah . . . not having a clue what was starting in downtown L.A. at the same time. My lily-white clueless ass even stopped for gas in Chinatown on the way home.

*errrr* I need to backtrack for a sec.

Long before all the riot stuff, I was at my mom's house one day, doing some bookkeeping work and watching this teensy tiny black & white TV during the afternoon when there was breaking news coverage showing some gawd-awful beatdown by cops. It was just sickening. I remember being disgusted. It's one of those "where were you when you heard . . . " memories. Maybe it's an L.A. thing, I dunno, but I'll never forget seeing that footage for the first time.

*back to the topic*

I got home that night, still completely oblivious to what was going on on L.A. I didn't know a verdict was coming down that day. I watched all the news coverage in horror. Looting. Vigilante shop owners. Reginald Denny being yanked from his semi and beaten in the street. It was complete mayhem and so very scary.

Needless to say, I called in sick the next day. And the days after. The owner of the company was very understanding to all of his employees.

As if the riots weren't enough, L.A. then had a good-sized earthquake soon after that (not
Northridge big, but trust me - too big for this chick).

I got the hell outta L.A. right after, and went back home to the Coast.

Got a job with another generator company doing bookkeeping. We provided the generators for alot of movie shoots (among other things), and were on location in North Carolina for The Crow. Yep. The movie that Brandon Lee died while filming. Another "never forget" moment.

Good googilly moogilly - I'm thinking maybe I had a big streak of bad bookkeeping mojo there for awhile! Sorry to my previous employers!

All told, I've worked for those companies mentioned, had my own bookkeeping business for a short time, worked for the largest CPA firm in Nevada (the Big *One* as I like to call them), another CPA firm in California*, a veterinarian office*, "the glassiest place in town" and even Target and Montgomery Wards! Is Montgomery Wards even still in business any more? Probably not, given my bad bookkeeping mojo, lol.

20 years of bookkeeping - summarized in one bloggity-blog.

Luckily I had a fall-back plan, since my big dream of being the next Jessica Savitch didn't work out so well (and obviously didn't work out so well for Jessica Savitch either).

*(eventually I'll tell more detail about those two places. Maybe after I finally explain how The Mike came to be The Husband)

IDK, MY BFF LAURIE?

One of my upcoming plans is to go to L.A. this Thursday and see author Laurie Perry (aka Crazy Aunt Purl) who has her very first book out:


Since I found out too late to get reservations when the Yarn Harlot (Stephanie Pearl-McPhee) was in L.A. a few weeks ago, I've been wracking my brain on how to ensure a spot for Ms. Perry's appearance.

Called the bookstore - no reservations AND they only seat 60. I'ma be travelling almost 3 hours ONE WAY (give or take L.A. traffic) for this shindig, so it would suck major donkey dick if I was ass-out of a spot.

Jollyewe the Devil won't be going with me, and I just know Crazy Aunt Purl's knitting group (the WeHo Stitch 'n Bitchers) are going to represent en masse so I was getting really nervous.

Who to beg a spot from?

After mulling it over and talking myself into it and then talking myself out of it and back and forth (and forth and back!) I took a chance and wrote Laurie Perry directly the other day.

I apologized for bugging her and let her know I'm not some kooky crazy knitting stalker (well, I am kinda, but not in a *bad* way) and asked if there was someone BESIDES HERSELF (herself being all busy with a career and a new book and a book tour and four cats and a metric fuck-load of friends 'n all) that I could get ahold of about securing a spot.

Then I sat back and had about 78% hope she'd respond and about 21% expectation of said response. Don't forget this girl's busybusy!

Today, about 4:50pm I checked my email for the 82nd time and BAM!

An email from Crazy Aunt Purl herself.

I can't divulge (yet) the particulars of her missive (since I don't want any REAL kooky crazy knitting stalkers to get any ideas!) but let's just say this middle-of-nowhere-California knitter has a primo spot this Thurs-dee.

SNOOPY DANCE!

What I'm Not Doing:

If I were updating this blog . . . I wouldn't be doing my client's bookkeeping, or updating the bass blog I took on for my husband's bass club, or petting lazy-assed cats lolling around the house, or reading Perez Hilton, or hell, even watching the game.

So, since I'm not updating the blog, I'm probably doing one of those things instead!

(from the top: The Mike, Scilly, Shadow, Callie, NOT A PET bass, Poops, Madden & Frecks. Nice of Frecks to loan out her ass as a pillow, wasn't it? She's a giver, that Freckles)

Winners & Losers:

Coronet is done - pretty close to one week exactly. Cast on during the 2nd half of last week's Miami game, and finished in the final quarter of this week's Miami game.

My modifications aren't documented in any way. Basically I used the yarns I wanted and the corresponding recommended needle sizes per their ballbands. I knit the braided part to be slightly larger around than my own freakisly small head. I picked up along the edge whatever number there actually were available to be picked up and didn't count it. Knit several rows in the round and then figured out I screwed up so the the 'right side' of the rest of the hat was the WRONG purl side. Shrugged my shoulders and decided to do a 'flipped up band' so that the rs of the braided band, and the stockinette side of the hat body were on the same side. That meant I had to make the body of the hat longer - to account for the part lost under the flipped up braided part. No biggie. I decreased every few rows until I got down to the 84 stitches the pattern calls for. I knit the rest of the way until I figured I should start decreases. I switched back to the original darker purple yarn but kept using the smaller sized needles (7s) and did a straight row of it before I began the decreases. Decreased as per the pattern, finished up with about 3 minutes left in the game. Once we lost I wove in the ends and took pics. Voila.








We lost again. You've read it here first. I predict Miami will be the only team in NFL history to have WON the most games in a season and the team to LOSE the most games in a season (all of them).

What to cast on next . . . I have a Clapotis to do, but my stash choices are limited right now. I have lots of yarns and patterns for lace, but that's not a travelling project at all. Socks? Hmm. Maybe I'll cast on a sock using these size 2 stretchy circs I bought the other weekend. It claims to be perfect for sock knitting, but I dunno . . . guess I should give it a whirl.

Oh, and I have to do some serious bookkeeping cleanup for a client of mine and the deadline is looming. He needs it back in time for a meeting at the end of the week, but I have to have it done by Wednesday so I can go see Laurie Perry on Thursday with a clear conscience.

(p.s. there would've been more FO pics, but uploading this shit is ponderous!)

One Man's Trash:

Hoo-wee! I had my first gar(b)age sale today, and we did pretty good overall. Luckily, The Mike has some Big Ticket items he finally agreed to part with. Between his Man Stuff and my household contributions, we bagged a whopping $341.00 by 10:00am. Thankfully, no one stole our shit right in front of us like poor Crazy Aunt Purl had happen!

Also, we were ready for the 7 am bargain hunters, having been up since 6 am purging our house of all things craptacular. Me! Six am! Up! You won't see that in writing anytime soon. Remember . . . I am Midnight.

Months ago, The Mike had his very beloved truck stolen right at our house, in the middle of the damn day. His even MORE beloved quad was in the back of that truck when it was stolen.

Beloved Truck:

GONE!







Beloved Quad:

GONE!




Since our shit is always getting stolen/vandalized since moving to this crap town, my best friend made me laugh so hard when I told her we were having a garage sale on Saturday.

Sheila: "Since they show up to steal your stuff, hopefully they'll show up to buy some of it too." I like to have laughed to death.

We still have a few items left over, but not anything we're okay just giving away. I'm going to look at it as having a little (and by little, I mean LITTLE) savings account stored in the garage for now.

Oh, and did I forgot to mention! My ass was up at 6 am thankyouverymuch.

I am SO excited about my upcoming plans.

1) This Thursday - Laurie Perry in L.A. I'ma drive hours south to see some lady I don't even know sign books. On a worknight! On my birthday! Sooo so excited.

2) The Friday after that week, I'ma go hours west and hang with my bestest friend in my favoritist place for her birthday! Sooo so excited even more!

Is it because I'm left-handed?:

I finished the band on the Coronet hat from knitty.com the other night, and last night I did all the picking up stitches no problem. No problem indeedy. I knit in the round . . . just going 'round 'n 'round when it finally hit me.

I'm going the goddamn wrong direction again. Instead of knitting in the direction that makes my stockinette the right side, it's the frigg'n wrong side.

This happens to me all the time. I never realized it until months ago when I taught my best friend how to make socks. I had her sit in front of me, facing the same direction as me, with the knitting in front of us, so she could see the knitting from my perspective. Yet it made zero sense to her. She kept saying I was knitting the 'wrong direction'. WTF? Wrong direction? Since she taught me to knit originally, I figured she knew more than me on things Knitterly.

Well, I've come to realize it's not so much the 'wrong direction' but maybe the 'left-handed' way of doing things that I'm naturally wired for.

To frog or not to frog . . . that's where I'm at with this hat.

1) Frog and go the conventional (read, the way the hat was originally intended) way.

2) Leave it the way it is and pretend it was on purpose like I've seen this hat made on ravelry (where the braided band is 'flipped' but still right side out).

3) Leave it the way it is because that's the way I made it, even though no one ELSE gives a rat's ass.

Pretty sure I'm gonna pick #3.

Now fingers crossed that I have enough yardage in the contrasting yarn. It's roughly 109 yards and that should be enough for a hat top I figure.

Swatching? Measuring? I never do that shit. Whatever my yarn is gonna 'tell me' in a swatch? I don't know how to read it anyway, lol!

Luckily, I have a freakishly small head*, so if it doesn't fit any intended giftee then I gets to keep it for myself.

*I once went snowmobiling at Zephyr Cove at Lake Tahoe, and the only helmets that fit had TT painted across the back. Come to find out, TT stood for Tiny Tot or some such shit. I was like 24! My head was past the 'growing stage'! That's how small my head is. Surprising really, given how big my brain must be. So big I can't even knit the in the right damn direction, apparently.

(proof I can do *something* right!)

Snootchy Bootches:

Just finished watching Clerks2 (Thank You Netflix!).

Of course, it wasn't near as shockingly funny as the original Clerks was, but that's okay. Such is usually the way with sequels.

I enjoy Kevin Smith, the director, tremendously. Clerks, MallRats, Chasing Amy, Dogma, Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back, yadayada. I've seen them all a squillion times and I think I own all of them. Hell, I even own 'Drawing Flies' - how's that for fandom?

But it's all about the Mewes in my world. Before I knew about Clerks, I remember seeing funny-assed spots on mtv starring these two weird guys - one that didn't talk, and one that did weird dances next to him while a boombox played heavy metal music (well, it was considered *metal* back then).

Jason Mewes is frigg'n funny, period. Clerks and J&SBSB are in my top 5 movies of all time.

Every so often, I can be caught singing "15 bucks, little man, put that shit in my hand. If the money doesn't show, then you owe me, oh-ee-oh".

Little known facts about how deep my love is for the whole motley crew:

1) I have an official Miami Dolphins jersey that says 'AJDURY' across the back, and the number is . . . 37! (In a row).

2) One of our cats sports the middle name of Justice. Seriously. I ain't kidd'n ya! There was no way in hell we could tell everyone her name was BooBoo Kitty Fuck, so it was Justice to start. Right after we got her though , we saw the episode of Lost where Sawyer calls Kate "Freckles" for the first time. Justice became 'first name' Freckles and 'middle name' Justice. 'Cause, you know. Every tiger-striped cat should be called FRECKLES!

We're kooky crazy like that.

How cute is this?

That picture up at the top of the post? Fast forward cute fuzzy Freckles roughly 29 months.

I probably wouldn't trade her for Jason Mewes forever . . . but maybe 37 minutes? In a row?

I am Midnight:

So's they tell me. But it really does fit.

You Are Midnight

You are more than a little eccentric, and you're apt to keep very unusual habits. Whether you're a nightowl, living in a commune, or taking a vow of silence - you like to experiment with your lifestyle. Expressing your individuality is important to you, and you often lie awake in bed thinking about the world and your place in it. You enjoy staying home, but that doesn't mean you're a hermit. You also appreciate quality time with family and close friends.

What Time Of Day Are You?

How weird is it that I'm posting this result at 12:23 am?

Thank you to

The Knitt'n Coop for the link.

I guess this is the NewBlogAge of Horoscopes, lol!

Kinda Sad News:

Yesterday I had heard a rumor, and today it was confirmed.

The husband of the lady that owns our town's only LYS died over the weekend. Very unexpected. I learned tonight that he was only 41. He had a massive heart attack and there was no chance to save him.

I've bitched about the store before - it's not REALLY an LYS in the true sense, but it's the best thing this hick town has. It's got a killer Cascade 220 selection, and if you like Berroco she's got it in spades. There are no classes, and no 'sit & knit' vibe in the least. It's just a store that sells yarn along with tons of unrelated knitterly things.

This town is so small though, you get to know people, even in the 'chit-chatty' way and that's how I know this lady. Her mom operates the store 90% of the time, and I know her mom from something else. Regardless of whether it was her mom or herself when I'd visit, they both just have always been nice people. They ask about work, and what I'm working on, and the local town issues. Pam, the owner is very involved in community/Main St. issues and I'm very involved in community/City Council issues.

She knows people I know and vice-versa. It's a small town and surprisingly, that's one of the few aspects I really like about living here. People like Pam, and her mom, and the other 'locals' I run into every day give this town its personality.

What a shame this has happened to her. She introduced me to her husband one day when we were both in the shop. She'd shared the details of her son's recent wedding as it was happening. Every time we visited at the shop, she'd talk of her family like I was a longtime friend and we were catching up.

I feel so sad for her and what I can't imagine she's going through right now.

Life changes THAT fucking fast.

Jollyewe is the Devil:

To look at her, you'd think she was downright angelic, but I am here to tell you people that the Devil walks among us. It's just like the Devil to hide himself as a nice, cute, blond knitter too, don'tca know! He's tricky like that.

The Devil sits on your shoulder whispering of podcasts and iTunes and Bloglines.com and finishes up with "hey, I can help you start a blog" devil-talk. Stuff your pure self has never really understood before Devil-talker came along.

Beware. I think the Devil's goal is to entrench you into the ways of SLOTH. A deadly sin. That's definately 'not good'.

Last night The Mike had some horrible t.v. on, and I finally had an 'a-ha' moment. All of Jollyewe's whisperings in my ear the last few weeks created The Perfect Storm. I found my earphones, plugged into the computer, tuned in a knitting podcast, opened the Coronet pattern window, contemplated future blog content and knitknitknitknit. I didn't do it quite all night long (I love the ladies of Wisteria Lane and "Shark" is fierce!), but the seed has been planted.

I WILL NEVER DO ANOTHER CHORE AROUND MY HOUSE EVER AGAIN PEOPLE!

Hell, I'll never leave the couch outside of nature calls and work responsibilities. Instead of doing dishes, or laundry, or cleaning my yarn room? I will slowly be eaten by my couch and computer all the while grinning ear-to-ear. Human contact will become a thing of the past.

She's the Devil I tell you. Taking over knitter's souls one by one. Save yourself.

My last words of advice are . . .

Even the Devil doesn't want that shit!